Recollections from the Past
by Hoping4ever
Summary: Scenes/series of oneshots from throughout the lives of Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair- some made-up, some from the actual series. Mockingjay spoilers! Also taking requests! More info inside- please consider reading!
1. Chapter 1

**You can say that I was **_**completely **_**devastated when Finnick died in MJ- well, who wouldn't be? So I decided to do a little something in honor of him. xD Oh yeah, and please read the author note at the end!**

They say that when you die, your whole life flashes before you- I don't know if that's what happened to Finnick when he was being mobbed to death by the mutts, but here I am now, flipping through our old scrapbook from childhood, flashing our life before me- my first stop; the pearl.

_62__nd__ Hunger Games (age 11)- _

"No Finnick! Aunt Ellie said we couldn't touch those!" I called after him as he cautiously examined the sea urchins closely, almost poking an eye out. "Finnick!" The crashing waves from the ocean almost drowned out my voice.

He chuckled in a soft voice. "Don't worry, Annie- it can't kill me. But look how fascinating they are," he pointed towards a deep blue spiked ball in the shallow waters; fascinating they were, looking as if they were human, breathing in and out- relaxed and calm. "Look Annie! Clams!" Finnick's face shined with happiness as he made his way over to his discovery.

"Clams?" I asked, disgusted. How can someone get so excited about clams? They were gray, ugly, gave off a bad stench raw, and tasted _horrid_. "Don't go near them, Finnick," I warned. "If you stay too close to them, you'll smell horrible and turn ugly just like they are," I pointed towards the seemingly harmless creatures. "And knowing Mr. Finnick James Odair, he wouldn't want to turn his pretty face into something dreadful would he?" I smirked- he takes a half-hour just to figure out which side his hair should point towards, and that's just his record time.

"Who said ugly things couldn't produce something beautiful?" a voice came from behind me.

I jumped in shock and my natural instincts took over, kicking sand into the strangers face. I turned around, ready to attack anyone who came close, only to find a certain boy coughing up dust. "Finnick!" I gasped and slammed his back hard as he coughed up a cloud of dust. "Sorry…"

"Don't tell _me _you're sorry- you almost made me drop it!" he exclaimed, patting his pockets to make sure whatever 'it' was, was there.

"Drop what?" I asked, perplexed. "Your comb? Lipstick?" I teased. "Eye shadow?" Laughing, I turned to gaze at the sea in front of us, a deep clear blue- you probably can't see a sight like this anywhere but here.

"_This," _Finnick whispered from behind me. I spun around as he unraveled his fist, exposing a perfect tiny, milky white sphere.

"A pearl," I whispered equally low, entranced by the small orb. I took it from him and held it up against the sun, making it shine in the light.

"And where do pearls come from, Ms. Annie Cresta?" he asked, grinning. Realization hit me as I was engrossed by the spectacular object.

"_The clams?" _my head spun in that direction and I focused on the gray lumpy creatures. I would've believed it more if they weren't so…unattractive.

"Mhm- you want to see proof?" he held out a small clam from behind him and opened it up. Sure enough, there was a small imprint sitting on it's cushion…thing- just small enough to cradle something as perfect as that pearl.

"Alright fine, that magnificent pearl came from- _that_," I sigh in defeat, waving my hand towards the creature. ,"But that doesn't mean I change my opinions about them,"

"That's fine with me- though what do you say now?" he grinned broadly, the sun making his teeth gleam.

I groaned and recited as quietly as I could, "Finnick James Odair is the most dazzling boy to ever step on the ground on this planet and all of Panem would be lost without his amazing looks and great brilliance,"

"Alrightie then," he smiled. "Now let's get home, I hear Aunt Ellie's making clam soup," Finnick teased as he ran back, towards the sunset, with me smiling as I trailed behind.

That night, as I got ready for bed, I felt a smooth surface on my pillow. I turned on the lamp and the dim glow filled my room. On my cushion was the same pearl Finnick had found this afternoon and a small strip of paper next to it that said

"_Who said ugly things couldn't produce something beautiful?" _

Needless to say, that from that day on, my opinions on clams considerably changed.

_End_

**A/N- So what I'm planning on doing is to have a few more of these flashbacks scenes, all the way up to some part in Mockingjay- some made-up, some from the series. Maybe 5, 6 more? But (yes, very important- the 'but') if you guys want me to continue, I'd be more than happy to. And (another important part- the 'and') if you guys have any requests you want me to write about or any scenes that aren't mentioned in the series but you think might've happened in their lives, feel free to tell me in a review or a PM. Thanks for reading and please review! :] (and I do not have anything against clams!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, so, soooo sorry for the late update. I'd been trying to bring myself to updating and then something else comes in the way- please don't give up on it; you have my promise that I **_**will **_**try my very hardest to update ASAP. Thank you so much for reading!**

_64__th__ Hunger Games (age 13) - picture of Finnick and Annie smiling, covered in dough (etc.)_

"I. Hate. This," Finnick Odair muttered loathingly in the kitchen as he kneaded the dough- with him taking all the anger out of it, I kind of felt sorry for the poor thing. "I'd rather be dipping my head in buckets of seaweed than do **this**," he continued to mumble to himself. Finnick paused for a minute, looking deep in thought, and then murmured, "Scratch that," he started, still pounding on the soon-to-be demented bread. "-my hair would get all frizzy and stinky at the end…" I rolled my eyes and laughed at the comment; already thirteen years old and he still hasn't given up on his obsession with appearances. "Why did Aunt Ellie put **us **in charge of the party dinner anyway? She knows we're completely unreliable," Finnick argued, exasperated.

"Speak for yourself," I replied, slapping him, a cloud of flour settling around his face. Finnick, surprisingly, ignored the white sheet all over him and went over to start the soup- _clam soup_; my favorite. "-and you're not completely unreliable; I mean, the dough looks…pretty good…" I lied, a little, picking up the…well, truth be told, I really didn't know what to call it.

"Don't try to be nice- remember that lesson in history about that really old guy that cut his father's tree or something? What was his name…Forge Mashington?" he mumbled to himself again. "Horace Washington…no…aha! George Washington! Good-looking _and _smart; can't get better than that," he mused arrogantly over the stove. "Anyway, remember the moral? _Be honest_,"

"Alright…this stinks," I looked at the lump of dough somewhat disgustingly then shrugged sheepishly at Finnick. "You wanted the truth," I pointed out.

"Thank you,"

A sheet of silence soon took over and I, for one, hate it when no one's talking. "You're mad at me," I sighed, looking up towards him.

With his back still facing me, Finnick replied, "No I'm not,"

"Yes you are," I took a step towards him.

"No, I'm not,"

"Don't you argue with me…" I walked up to him peered over his shoulders- so the soup hadn't taking a beating yet- that's good.

As I started to speak again, Finnick muttered smugly, "I'm just playing with you," and a white blur blinded me and I was soon coughing- a lot. I ran towards the nearest mirror and ended up staring at a white-faced ghost. "Finnick!" I glared and found myself sticking my hands inside the bag of dough.

"You wouldn't," he started, eyeing the bag, pretending to look nervous.

"Every pretty boy's got to get dirty sometime," and the war officially began.

Squeals and shouts filled the air as million bits of flour flew from side to side. My arm instinctively flew back into the bag after each throw, though Finnick wasn't slow himself either, whipping flour from who-knows-where. After a straight five minutes of decent aim throwing, my arm started to ache and apparently so did Finnick's- we sat down on the floor with wild smiles on our faces.

"Nice throws you got there," Finnick complimented, smiling weakly.

"You're not too bad yourself," I replied. Glancing briefly at the clock, I continued, "Aunt Ellie's coming back to check on us in an hour. Think you're up with that soup?" I acknowledged towards the pot.

"After all that and you think making a soup will stop me?" he heaved himself up from the floor and started throwing in the vegetables. I grinned and made my way towards the dough.

After a hardworking hour, needless to say, both of us were extremely exhausted. Hearty smells filled the air, with the bread in the oven and the soup brewing on the fire. We slumped onto the counter as Aunt Ellie walked in, her brown hair contrasting greatly with the white cover room.

"What in the world…" she glanced at us to and continued, "-not even going to ask. It does smell great in here though," Aunt Ellie walked over to the stove and oven, nodding over and over. "This is great- you kids are pretty reliable," and with a glance at Finnick as if she knew what had been going on, Ellie marched out of the room, leaving both of us dumbstruck.

That night, everyone from the party enjoyed the food greatly and most of them came up to congratulate us on the good work.

After the reception, with Finnick and I munching on the phenomenal bread (I'm usually quite humble), Ellie and the rest of the cooking crew came over to the both of us, a wide grin on her face. "I don't think I need to tell you how great the guest enjoyed the dining part of the festivity," The cooking crew from behind nodded in agreement. "I'm so very proud of the both of you and a lot of people have requested your service again in the near future; would you like that? I mean, I know how much you both hate cooking…"

Finnick and I glanced at each other, a small smile on our faces. Needless to say, we both happily accepted.

_End_

**Again, terribly sorry for the late update- please don't give up on this; I will try to update ASAP. By the way, **_**I'm still taking requests on some ideas you might have for this**_**. Thank you so much for reading and please review!**


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